[Verse One: Thee Undatakerz]Got bloody bodies all around me, I'm chewin out on somebody's fleshI love the smell of rotten corpse like maggots diggin all through your chestA gravedigger, tomb raider, quick to get in yo' spot and make a messRip the head off your body, sip the blood straight out yo' neckBlack Nosferatu walkin the streets feelin the city not as a threatLook at the public and that, panicked manic man straight on yo' setBlack mask, long machete and the blade is covered with bloodDirty suit, guerilla boots, and the whole body's still covered in mudWalk the cemetery at night, 12 midnight with a shovelSpeakin to the spirits talkin to me, thinkin is that God or is it the Devil?

[Verse Two: M-Balmer]Y'all niggaz just be killin meDon't like my style, just don't deal with meY'all niggaz just be killin meEven worser than them bitches that envy meY'all niggaz done done all that there talkin, now you bleedinPlease believe it.. believe itThe blood streamin from your vein, two and two, the M-BalmerI'm true to you, you know I got you boo! (boo)Creep through the streets of Los SkandelousBusiness really boomin up and down the listNiggaz can't handle itDirectin funerals of nothin but loveWhat about it nigga? Criminals and drug dealin {?}Or that bitch nigga strictly bout his skrillaOr fucked with me and I peeled yo' cap niggaAlways expectin the unexpectedUndatakerz, they detect itDon't be trippin off me... just need to sweat itGravediggers, strictly fo' they cheddarYou said it's eerie, it's dreary, you wearyBut none of mines is leary, y'all niggaz can't feel me

[Chorus]

[Verse Three: Reverand Tom - Kool Keith]There's more red beans in the backWho cares who know who in the spotlightI'd rather listen to Beelow comin tthrough New Orleans with Project PatWith Skull Duggery, Hollow Tip, and Tre-8New York should be lovin me, word and I'm fatalI'm comin out of nowhereYou see me comin out the under, the master of distributionout of nowhere like Kane & Abel, in magazines like Big BearI move units over there, like Pistol and Mac DreI cuts up and put it out anywayY'all work for the company and release dateWhen I send all masters to city hall in Bayside it's gon' be too late300,000 rappers sittin out on milk cratesSkinny Pimp and Three 6, y'all hit them big licksLil' Jon and the Eastside BoyzRumble speaker down South with noise, make money mayneNo time for F.O. and G.I. JoeCommercial boobs in Belvedere videosFake chairs and toys, incense on the corner, your rap get destroyedBaton Rouge, you should call me Mr. ScroogeAnd when girls y'all ridin around with transexuals and dudesComin to rich men drinkin boozewith gators on, fly and shine they shoesI gotta get gas, pick up the girls, change clothesDrop Frank off and Hank off